


Country Magic #13 - Done

by olivejuice28



Series: Country Magic [13]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: EWE, Enemies to Friends, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Friends to Lovers, HEA, Pining, Secret Crush, Weddings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-09
Updated: 2020-09-09
Packaged: 2021-03-06 18:55:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,908
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26373841
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/olivejuice28/pseuds/olivejuice28
Summary: Based off the song "Done" by Chris Jansen. Draco learns his long-time ardor has not been completely one-sided.
Relationships: Harry Potter/Ginny Weasley, Hermione Granger/Draco Malfoy, Pansy Parkinson/Ron Weasley
Series: Country Magic [13]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1518281
Comments: 10
Kudos: 62





	Country Magic #13 - Done

**Country Magic #13**

**Done ~ By Chris Jansen**

It was a little odd to be back, if he was being entirely honest. He hadn’t returned to Britain in a few years, since his work typically kept him bouncing between Frankfurt, Vienna, and Zurich. His very limited time off was usually spent in Burgundy, where his mother lived permanently since the Manor had been turned over to the Ministry in its entirety after the war. That was one of several stipulations following their acquittal, and one they were more than happy to comply with. Lucius had pitched an unholy fit about it, but Narcissa had turned an icy stare on him and announced he had no say about anything she or her son did from that moment forward, and to enjoy his lifelong stay in Azkaban.

He spotted his mother across the bustling, increasingly-crowded space and smiled to himself, glad that she had been able to maintain a few friendships and forge one or two particularly surprising new ones in the wake of all that had occurred. While she preferred to stay tucked away in their French mountainside chateau, away from the unpleasant memories and waning animosity the London area still presented, she wouldn’t have missed the wedding of her oldest and dearest friend’s daughter for the world. The fact that the bride was marrying into one of the most highly regarded families in the Wizarding World these days was an added bonus.

Draco shook his head and huffed a breath, still not quite sure how all roads had led to this, but happy for his childhood friend nonetheless. Pansy had been absolutely ecstatic when she’d shoved her blindingly bejeweled hand in his face last Christmas, and made him promise on pain of an Unforgivable that he would be there for her big day. He’d agreed without a second thought, though he’d not really considered all the repercussions of that immediate promise, the most troubling of which was currently standing within his line of view and making his brain go a little fuzzy.

Hermione Granger was beautiful. Gorgeous. Stunning. He couldn’t conjure enough adjectives to adequately describe how overwhelmingly exquisite he found her, nor could he handle the tidal wave of emotion that was threatening to drown him at the mere sight of her. He had just seen her no more than two years ago... wait, maybe it was three... no, the last time had been at the Two Year memorial, and that was... four and a half years ago. _Good Godric, had it really been that long?_ Apparently so. The passage of those years had clearly agreed with her, and he was at a complete loss for words as he took in her glossy curls, delicate features, and elegant gown.

In the immediate aftermath of Voldemort’s demise, the surviving members of the Order of the Phoenix had been extremely instrumental in keeping the wives and children of Death Eaters out of prison, regardless of how much society as a whole wished to see them all rot in a cell. As a result, a great deal of unexpected and previously unthinkable connections had been made as those on both sides of the line that had once been drawn strove to put the past behind them and forge ahead in a better, more unified world. Among such attachments was the very one they were all gathered to celebrate that day; the wedding of Pansy Parkinson and Ronald Weasley.

It should have registered automatically - of course Hermione would be there, as she was still extremely close with the entire red-headed clan, not to mention that she had become rather good friends with Pansy as well. So good, in fact, that she was one of only three bridesmaids - Ginny (of course), and Daphne (who had been like a sister to the dark-haired witch), being the other two. Ron had asked Harry to stand up for him, as well as Blaise (who had been friends with Pansy since they were in nappies), and George (who he was closest to out of all his brothers, and who he now co-owned the joke shop with). Draco had no aversion to any of the scarlet and gold clan anymore, and could admit without ire that the Boy Wonder was actually a really decent bloke, and that Weasley was not the ignorant buffoon he’d so often considered him to be.

Once Draco and Narcissa has been granted their pardons, the young wizard had immediately requested the chance to sit his NEWTs, knowing full well that he would need a job in there very near future, and that it would be virtually impossible to find anything respectable without having taken exams. He wasn’t the only should-have-been Seventh Year in that boat, and the Ministry quickly arranged for any students who had been unable to complete their final year, to attend an off-site set of classes. Instead of returning to the castle, which would have been difficult for all of them in a myriad of ways, the eighteen witches and wizards who had signed up to participate, moved to a large estate home off the coast of Workington. The fort-like structure and sprawling grounds had once belonged to a distant relative of Pansy’s mother. In an effort to repair her family’s name, the Parkinson matriarch offered it to the Headmistress to do with as she saw fit, and in a matter of weeks, it had been thoroughly cleaned, warded, and outfitted for the students, a handful of staff members, and several House Elves.

It had been a little awkward at first, but after a few weeks, a comfortable routine had been established and friendships started to blossom where enmity had once bloomed. Classes and meals were all taken together, which meant free time was also shared, and before too long, all previous house rivalries were forgotten. Originally, Draco had given anyone even remotely connected to the Order or the Golden Trio a very wide berth, simply because he did not think any of them would give him the time of day. It was one thing to say a few words in a court hearing to make sure he didn’t spend the rest of his life incarcerated, but quite another to actually engage in civil conversation. Eventually, though, his assumption was proved quite wrong.

He’d been hunkered down at a table in their makeshift library, surrounded by a pile of books and forcing himself to finish the essay in front of him before calling it a night, when someone slid into the seat across from him. He looked up to find a pair of wide brown eyes contemplating him with open curiosity. He blinked once... twice... unsure of what to say, when she saved him the trouble.

“Could you help me with something?”

To say he was shocked would have been a gross understatement. He continued to stare owlishly at her for several beats before clearing his throat and finding his voice.

“I can try. What is it you need help with?”

The smile she gave him was the warmest, kindest, most inviting expression he’d ever seen and it made his heart stutter and his stomach feel like a snitch was trying to escape. She began explaining the potions assignment that had her stumped, but he had difficulty comprehending her words over the pounding of his heart. It turned out he knew enough about the subject to flub his way through it anyway, and from that moment on, they were friends. Oh, they still got on each other’s nerves, still argued over anything and everything, and still competed for the top spot with obsessive tenacity, but there was an undercurrent of mutual respect and appreciation that hadn’t existed before.

More times than he cared to count during the course of those months on Britain’s western coast, he caught himself watching the petite brunette. He’d always known she was smart, but now he also knew she was funny and outgoing and incredibly sweet. Her chaotic curls were still larger than life, but they suited her in a way he’d not understood before; they were untamable and held a magic all their own. Just like her. One evening, back at the same book-strewn table where it all began, he happened to glance up and saw that she was deep in thought over their latest Transfiguration essay. A tiny frown creased her brow, her lips were pursed, and her nose scrunched in concentration. She looked adorable. When he comprehended what his brain had decided to announce, it took five solid minutes of blankly staring at the pages of his book for him to breathe regularly again. As far as he was concerned, he wasn’t allowed to think of Hermione Granger as anything more than a friend, a fellow classmate, and an impressively powerful witch. It had nothing to do with his warped and twisted upbringing, and everything to do with how absolutely unfit he was to even consider her as anything more. She was light and goodness personified - the Wizarding World’s Sweetheart - and he was somewhere at the bottom of the dung heap as far as most people were concerned. Not that he blamed them.

Unfortunately, once his subconscious made that observation the first time, it veered right back to it as often and as inopportunely as possible. In the middle of Arithmancy, he would marvel at how the sun streaming through the window brought out the highlights in her hair. As she strolled into the dining room for dinner, he appreciated how graceful she was and how fluid her movements were. Whenever they chatted about assignments or interests, he would pick up on another detail of her features that he’d never noticed before - the good flecks in her amber eyes, the Cupid’s bow of her upper lip, the three tiny freckles on her right cheekbone. Each new discovery was filed away in a box in the very back corner of his mind where all his thoughts and musings regarding the enchanting girl were secretly cherished.

Sometimes he caught her looking at him, too, and the immediate blush on her cheeks and the fact that she couldn’t look away fast enough gave him tiny flickers of hope that perhaps she fancied him, too. But then he’d mentally slap himself and begin the self-depreciating lecture that was so often on repeat in his head, listing all the reasons it could never, would never, work between them. It didn’t stop him from finding excuses to be around her, and it didn’t keep the jealous, territorial beast that resided somewhere in his stomach from roaring to life every time another wizard spent too long chatting with her, or offering solicitous assistance with some random task. She wasn’t his, not in any way, shape, or form, and his heart ached over the fact that it was doomed to remain that way.

They completed their schooling, sat for exams, successfully achieved their NEWT levels, and parted ways to blaze a new trail in the real world. Hermione had returned to the London area, while Draco joined his mother in Burgundy, having decided to pursue a potions mastery with a well-known warlock in Lyon. A few owls had flown between them, but nothing more than amicable news was exchanged. He saw her at the second memorial (the first having occurred while they were still at school and they had all attended together), and they caught up briefly before her presence had been requested by someone much more important than he. She’d looked very pretty, slightly more grown up in her pale blue dress with her hair pulled back, and he’d realized with a pang in his chest that he missed her. Chastising himself for being so melancholy about someone who was simply a friend, he’d spent the rest of his time in the company of Blaise, Pansy, and a handful of other former Slytherins who still weren’t entirely comfortable at those events.

He had not returned for the third memorial, or the fourth. The Ministry continued to hold the annual gathering for any who wished to attend; who needed the closure or reminder or significance it brought, but the fifth one had been the last. It had now been six and a half years since the battle, and though many scars still remained on the hearts and landscapes involved, the magical world as a whole had moved forward and healed and was stronger than it had ever been. This was due greatly in part to the continued efforts of the young adults who had seen and endured and lost so much more than anyone at that age ever should have. He kept up with news of his schoolmates through the newspapers, his mother, and correspondence with a handful of friends he kept close to even while living abroad, but he’d avoided seeking out information regarding one specific Muggleborn witch. It wasn’t that he didn’t care how she was doing, or wonder what she was up to, or hope she was happy. Quite the opposite. He cared _too much_ , and he knew allowing the adolescent crush he’d harbored to grow into anything more would only serve to bring him heartache and disappointment.

He thought he’d gotten over her.

He was wrong.

One look was all it had taken for everything to come flooding back. One glance at her beautiful, expressive face, and he was done. He didn’t realize how much he’d missed hearing her voice, or seeing those riotous curls; hadn’t understood how just being in her presence eased an ache he hadn’t even known he was enduring, but the squeezing band around his heart loosened noticeably as soon as his eyes landed on her. He knew if she approached him, he'd do whatever she asked, give her whatever she wanted, promise to fulfill every one of her dreams. Half of his brain was screaming that he needed to get out of there before he did something incredibly stupid, and the other half wanted nothing more than to walk right up to her and pull her into his arms. He did neither, and instead, turned to Theo, who was keeping him company at a table towards the back of the spacious and elegant venue, until the ceremony began.

“Who’s Hermione with these days?” He tried to make his voice sound as casual and unaffected as possible, as if seeing her at the front of the room simply made him mildly curious. Theo, unfortunately, had always been far too astute for anyone’s liking and pinned his long-time friend with a calculating look before cocking a brow in question.

“Why?”

“Just wondering,” Draco shrugged, “Haven’t been back in a few years, so...” he trailed off but the dark brown eyes boring into him weren’t giving anything away.

“Right.”

A few beats of silence passed before Draco caved, “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Theo snorted, “You think you’re so subtle.” A wry smirk stretched across his face as he offered up the desired information, “She’s not with anyone. Hasn’t been in years. Couple of dates here and there, but nothing substantial.” He watched the pale blonde intently for his reaction, but aside from a brief flashing of those slate grey eyes, nothing was revealed.

Draco’s gaze returned to the source of his query, and watched as Hermione straightened the garland of flowers adorning the altar, then flitted over to the gift table to arrange the elegantly-wrapped items in a pleasing display. He knew Theo was watching him and kept his face as impassive as possible, though his brain was whirring with that one small piece of information.

She wasn’t attached to anyone. In the five years that had passed since they finished school, she’d not entered a serious relationship, hadn’t been swept off her feet (though he was quite sure it wasn’t for lack of trying by any number of eligible wizards), hadn’t settled down and gotten married. He couldn’t ignore the sheer elation he felt at that, yet he knew he had no right to think it would mean anything could change for him. He was more than a little surprised, however, since she clearly could have her pick of the best and brightest out there.

“Why?” he asked before he could stop himself, and didn’t dare look at Theo, instead, keeping his focus on the lovely woman now lighting candles with a gentle flick of her wand.

“Not sure,” the lanky brunette next to him mused, “but we think she’s just been waiting.” As he spoke, Theo pushed back his chair and stood, jerking his chin towards the rows of seats meant to be used for the ceremony, which were rapidly filling with guests now. Draco followed suit, still contemplating this news.

“Waiting for Prince Charming to come along?” he asked with a bit of snark in his tone, not having much use for that sort of fairytale tosh.

“Waiting for him to _come back_ ,” Theo replied, pinning him with a meaningful look that caused his heart to stop and his stomach to turn to lead. Before he could wrap his mind around that statement, his friend strode off to grab seats, leaving him rooted to the spot.

Draco was sure the ceremony was lovely; that Pansy was resplendent in her glittering cloud of diamonds and silk; that the music was wonderful and the vows heartfelt and meaningful. But he barely registered any of it, so singularly-focused was he on the radiant witch in the plum colored gown. She beamed at her two best friends as she walked down the aisle to take her place, and her smile never faltered, even as she wiped her eyes during the exchange of rings - even as her gaze roamed the guests before her and landed on him. It had only been for a heartbeat or two, but Draco’s stare hadn’t shifted from her since she’d walked through the doors mere minutes before the bride. Her eyes had widened just a fraction, but she maintained contact long enough for him to be absolutely sure it was him she was looking at.

Was Theo serious? Or had his comment merely been made to garner a reaction? In any case, he supposed the fact that he’d remained frozen in place for a solid minute could have been deemed some sort of response; shock, if nothing else. But there had been other emotions swirling around, causing fireworks to erupt throughout his entire being - curiosity, disbelief, desire, wonder, and most uncharacteristic of all, hope. Draco hadn’t let himself hope for much of anything in recent years, content to simply keep his head down, focus on his work as a reputable potioneer, and carry on with life in as quiet a manner as possible.

But now... He couldn’t shake the ember of possibility that had flared to life at his friend’s words. While he’d never sought out the Brightest Witch over the years, he’d often thought of her and wondered how she was, and his subconscious would invite her into his dreams with stubborn regularity. Every time his willful brain conjured her image, it always included her sparkling whiskey eyes, her perfectly kissable lips, her pert little nose, and that expression of warmth and acceptance that had drawn him to her all those years ago. Her features had remained agreeable to him since they last parted, but seeing her now quite literally took his breath away. She had matured from the cute, bookish girl who’d befriended him and given him daily reasons to smile, into an elegant woman with an inner confidence that positively glowed, and a figure that called to him like a siren’s song. His heart was thundering so hard it was roaring in his ears and he simultaneously wanted to march up to her and claim her as his own, and sprint out of the room before he did something mental.

He found himself back at the table he and Theo had been lounging at earlier, a half-finished tumbler of Ogden’s in his hand, and no recollection of how he’d managed to get there. Glancing around, he spotted his meddling friend across the room, laughing raucously at something Harry and Blaise were saying. He scanned the reception for one person in particular, and when he didn’t find her, slumped back in his chair with a dejected sigh. He had no idea what to do, how to approach her, what to say... For all his supposed Slytherin cunning, he was fresh out of ideas at the moment.

Suddenly, he was aware of someone sliding into the chair beside his own and turned to find the very subject of his inner turmoil. Hermione peered at him through her long lashes, and seemed to be mildly nervous, which was unusual. A small smile tugged at the corners of her mouth and she took a deep breath before speaking.

“I didn’t know if you’d be here,” her head cocked to one side, studying him, watching him.

Draco snorted, “Like Pansy would let me get away with not coming. I’d never hear the end of it.”

She huffed a low laugh and nodded, her stare still pinned to his face, “Well, I’m glad you are.”

His brows flew up before he could school his features into something more neutral, “Really?”

She nodded and nibbled her lower lip, a sure sign she was still less than confident in her current situation. She seemed to be contemplating her next choice of words before steeling herself and forging ahead.

“I’ve thought about you often, you know. Every time I encounter an abstract theory or difficult translation at work, I think about our late-night conversations in the library.” Her eyes dropped to her lap where her fingers were toying with the flowing fabric of her gown. Without looking back up she continued, “I’ve missed those... I’ve missed you.”

His heart slammed into his ribs and his breath faltered as he registered her words. She did look back up at him then, her warm chocolate eyes swirling with emotions he wasn’t brave enough to decipher, and instead of a verbal response, because he wasn't entirely sure he could formulate one, he simply stood up and extended his hand to her, a lopsided smile on his face. She looked from his hand to his face only once before placing hers in his grasp and rising from her seat. Wordlessly he led her towards the space where the ceremony had taken place, but had now been cleared of chairs to use as a dance floor, and once he’d taken several steps out onto the gleaming surface, he turned to face her.

Those expressive orbs were still trained on him, sparkling with what he hoped was happiness as he tugged gently on her hand, bringing her mere inches from his tall frame. Maintaining their connection, he placed his other hand lightly on her waist as she rested hers on his shoulder. They began to sway in a slow circle, both completely unaware of anything or anyone else around them. No words were spoken, yet a conversation was held as his pewter gaze reacquainted itself with her delicate features, and her gold-flecked eyes drank him in. At one point, he noticed a sheen had appeared in them, and his brow furrowed in confusion and concern as a single tear made its way down her cheek. He cocked his head in question and she responded with a slight shake of her own and a wobbly smile.

Without thinking, but simply following an innate need to comfort her, he drew her closer and wrapped his arm more tightly around her. He felt her shudder, though she leaned her head against his chest and let out a quiet sigh, and it was like a confirmation of all the questions that had been bombarding his brain since Theo had made that offhand remark. As much as he’d tried to convince himself there would never be anything between them; as often as he’d forced thoughts of her from his head; there was no denying the rightness of this moment. He could not explain it, other than to say it felt as if a missing piece of his soul had been found. This was where he was meant to be - who he was meant to be with - and he was done hiding abroad in some desperate bid for self-preservation.

Hermione’s shoulders trembled and Draco pulled back just enough to see her face, which was tear streaked, and though she was trying to smile, her sad countenance made his heart ache. Before he could ask her what was wrong, she voiced her own question.

“When do you go back?”

“Go back?” His brain felt like sludge.

“To France, to your job and...” she trailed off, her eyes filling again.

“I... well, my portkey leaves tomorrow morning,” he admitted and found he was extremely reluctant to do so. She nodded and chewed on her lip, though it didn’t hide the quivering off her chin.

He stopped moving and cupped her face with his hands, “Hermione, what’s wrong?” He bent his knees so he could look directly into her face, trying desperately to figure out what had caused this reaction from her.

“I just... I was hoping you would be here... and I was so, so happy to see you, and I just wanted to... wanted to spend a little time with you, but I... I didn’t realize it would be so hard, and I don’t... I don’t want...,” she was struggling valiantly to get the words out, and he could tell other guests nearby were starting to notice her distress.

“Let’s take a walk,” he whispered as he wrapped his arm around her shoulders and led her off the dance floor. They passed through the doors that opened to a beautiful garden, complete with a marble fountain that sent water splashing quietly into a deep, lily pad covered pool. He steered them to the first bench he found, and pulled her down to sit next to him, still tucked into his side. She was wiping her eyes and refusing to look at him, so he crooked a finger under her chin and gently raised it so he could peer into her still-shimmering eyes.

“Hermione, please help me understand what’s got you so upset,” he spoke in a low voice and didn’t bother trying to mask the anxiety and confusion on his face.

“I don’t want you to leave,” she managed in a broken whisper, and her pleading expression sent an arrow straight to his gut.

“You don’t?”

She shook her head as two more tears fell. He used his thumb to wipe them away.

“Why?” He had to know.

“I’ve missed you,” she said plaintively, “I think about you all the time, and I’ve written you so many letters, but I never sent them because I didn’t think you’d want... wasn’t sure if you...” she faltered again and turned her face away.

“Wouldn’t want what?” He rasped out, his heart pounding so hard he thought it would burst through his chest.

“Me,” her whisper was barely audible but he heard it all the same and almost tumbled off the bench in shock and elation as the reality of what she’d just said came crashing over him.

“Hermione,” her name was a strangled sound, but this wasn’t the time for eloquent speeches or fancy declarations, “Hermione, please look at me.”

She did, though reluctantly, and he once again took her face between his palms, needing her to see everything he couldn’t put into words that he was sure was written as clear as day across his face.

“I have missed you, too, so much. I stayed away because it was... easier... I never thought you’d see me as anything more than a former classmate, a friend at best, but I have loved you for years,” his breath was coming in short, painful bursts as he forced himself to say what needed to be said - what she needed to hear. Her eyes were wide and, to his dismay, filling with tears again, but his worries were quickly forgotten as a radiant smile bloomed across her lovely face.

“Really?” She breathed, and all he could do was nod and try to swallow around the lump in his throat. She reached up a tentative hand and swept his fringe back from his brow, then traced his cheek and jaw with trembling fingers. Her eyes found his again and pinned him with a look that sent a jolt of fire through his veins.

“And I have loved you,” she whispered, and it was all he needed to hear before he leaned down to capture her lips in a kiss that scattered the stars and tilted the earth. If there had ever been any doubt in his mind that she was the witch for him, it was banished in that instant. He would gladly spend the rest of his days right there on that bench with her in his arms. Nothing had ever felt so right, so perfect, and while a small part of his brain was kicking himself for wasting so much time, the larger part was rejoicing in the fact that they had exponentially more of it ahead of them than they did behind.

**_“Done. The first time I saw you, done. Like the first dance was through, I was done. That one kiss, I knew. There was nothing I wouldn’t do.” ~Chris Jansen_ **

**Author's Note:**

> Another one of my new favorite songs means another fluffy story about my favorite fictional couple. I can always tell when a story is brewing - a song will get stuck in my head for days and days, until eventually a scene or two comes to life, and then tah-dah, there it is. Lol. I hope you enjoy this happy little o/s, and would love for you to check out the others in the series <3  
> Thanks so much for reading!


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